


bishounen

by Orientali



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on raineko's bishounen pmv, Gods, I don't know what you can call this, Junhao are gods of winter and summer, M/M, dynasty au, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 03:51:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19782679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orientali/pseuds/Orientali
Summary: The story of Wen Junhui and Xu Minghao is one that legends remember.OrA shitty drabble fic about Gods!Junhao





	bishounen

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii! If you happened to click, thank you for doing so! Please enjoy this trash. And other trash I'm gonna post soon. Or don't. You were warned in the summary that this was shitty :D

“Xiǎohao!”

The god of ice turned around at the call to see Wen Junhui, god of summer and fire approaching him. 

“Hello Junhui-g ē ,” Minghao replied passively once Junhui came to a stop by the former’s side. 

Junhui pouted. 

“Aiyo, what’s with that greeting?” Junhui nagged playfully, tugging once at Minghao’s robes. “Aren’t you excited to see me?”

“Yes yes I totally get excited to see the same person every single day for centuries,” Minghao deadpanned. . 

“Ah, how you wound me. Won’t you entertain me just once?” Junhui tossed his head dramatically, his long pink hair softly glowing in the sunset. 

Minghao tsked impatiently, but he allowed a half smile to appear on his lips. 

Junhui began pulling on Minghao’s robes insistently. This went on for a few moments before Minghao yanked his arm out of Junhui’s grasp. 

“What?!”

Junhui, though older, giggles like a child before he says, “Come on, I wanna show you something I saw earlier on Earth.”

Minghao’s heart does not thump pitifully. 

With that, Junhui grabs Minghao’s hand. 

“I can walk,” Minghao grumbled, face flushing as he yanked his hand away again. 

Junhui grinned, unphased, before continuing on to lead the way. 

They walked towards the edge of the heavens, where they came to a stop by the cliff that overlooked the villages far below. 

Both of them observed quietly for a while, when Junhui begins to touch Minghao again, this time in the form of poking the younger in the face and messing with his long silver hair. 

“H-hey, stop,” Minghao protests, turning his face away to hide the blooming red appearing on it. 

“Hehe. You’re so cute Xiǎohao!”

“Don’t tease me or else I will stab you through the heart with my ice spikes.”

They went back to watching the Earth, Junhui every now and then pointing and commenting on what a human was doing. Minghao hums quietly in acknowledgment, busy with something else in his hands. 

When he finished, he gave it to Junhui. It was a snoxy fox, made of unmelting ice crystals. 

“Aww, is this for me?” Junhui cooed, taking it gingerly as to not break it. 

“Mnn,” was all Minghao said, too shy to truly acknowledge it. 

This was their routine every evening, when the sun touched the horizon and turned everything to pink and orange. 

Minghao would never admit it, but he admired how beautiful Junhui looked during these times. 

Granted, Junhui compliments himself at any chance he gets, earning him the reputation of the narcissist of the gods. 

But Minghao appreciated the other’s company. When Minghao had ascended to the heavens, Junhui was the one to lend a helping hand, teaching him the responsibilities of a god. How they were immortal. How they were untouchable. How they were flawless. 

  
  
  


A few moons later however, Minghao began to notice something. Everyone did. It was strange to see Wen Junhui, who was normally so obnoxious and arrogant, silent. 

He wasn’t being his confident, sassy self anymore. 

Minghao knew something was wrong. 

But he didn’t have the words to comfort Junhui. He didn’t know how to reach out to someone who never needed it. 

Junhui had suddenly turned to Minghao on an evening watch. 

“Minghao?”

“Yes?”

“I… I think I made a grave mistake…”

Minghao turned to look at the elder in confusion, only to be alarmed at the fact that the other was crying. 

Panicking slightly, Minghao quickly made another crystal animal, this time of a cat. He practically shoved it at Junhui

“H-hey, stop crying Junhui. I’m sure it isn’t bad. Now stop acting so strange, you’re scaring me a little.”

Junhui gave a short laugh, wiping at his tears before accepting the cat. 

“You’re right. I’m feeling better now. Don’t worry.”

Minghao frowned at the obvious lie, but he accepted what the other said without any further questioning. 

He didn’t think much of it afterwards, glancing at the summer and fire god every once in a while in the following days whenever they were together, and Junhui would pass every one of Minghao’s concerns as exhaustion or physical pain. 

But one night, as Minghao was going to his temple to retire for the evening, he suddenly noticed flashing orange in the corner of his eye. He whirled around, and his eyes widened at the flames and smoke coming from the grand temple, the one in which each god could his or her element the earth. 

Realization made Minghao’s heartbeat ring like a gong in his ears. 

Junhui. 

He rushed toward the temple and threw the heavy wooden doors aside. 

A figure stood in the middle of the fire, back towards the entrance. 

“Junhui?! Whatever you are doing, stop this instant!” 

At the sound of Minghao’s voice, the figure turned around. 

It was indeed Junhui. But it didn’t look like Junhui. 

Junhui’s eyes were a warm welcoming shade of amber, two gemstones that sparkled in the sunset in which Minghao had observed countless times. 

This Junhui had manic, glowing yellow eyes that gave even a stark contrast in the licking flames. His pink hair was whipping around him with the degree of power he was using. In the mortal world, this resulted in many wildfires and droughts. 

Minghao yelped as flames began licking at his cold skin, and he attempted to raise a few ice spikes from the ground to block the fire’s path of reaching him. They evaporated on spot, due to the immense heat the flames and Junhui himself was radiating. 

“Junhui, I know you can hear me! Please come to your senses and stop this! I beg you!” Minghao cried out desperately, and he couldn’t help the anguished tears that fell from his eyes.

Suddenly, Junhui blinked, and his eyes went back to normal. The flames died down, leaving behind ashes and some smoking areas. 

Junhui blinked again and looked around. 

“W-what… happened?” Junhui asked, fear and confusion evident on his face. He notices Minghao standing by the entrance, heaving for breath. “Minghao?” 

Minghao was just about to answer, when another voice interrupted. 

“Wen Junhui.” 

Minghao whirled around, gasping when he saw the High Priest standing in the open door. 

“You have committed a great crime against humankind by making an unspeakable pact with a demon. You are to be judged. Now.”

Junhui bowed his head in acquiescence, and walked towards the priest. 

Minghao tried to reach out to grab Junhui’s hand, but Junhui smiled sadly and shook his head. 

The younger could only watch in dismay as the other gods jeered and shamed Junhui on his way to the Ancestral Mother’s temple. But Junhui didn’t do anything. He just stared at the ground as he let himself be taken to judgement. 

The next morning, the first thing MInghao notices is the crowd gathered on the edge of the heavens. Pushing past the other gods and making it to the front of the mass, Minghao stopped in front of the sight that was Junhui, hands tied and being lead toward the cliff. 

His hair was no longer pink, but an inky black, a sign that he was stripped of his divine power. 

“Junhui!” Minghao called out. 

Junhui turned around. He eyes were brown, and they crinkled when Junhui smiled fondly at the god of ice. 

Minghao starts crying. 

With his hands tied and a celestial blade pressed against his back, the only thing Junhui could do was continue smiling at Minghao. 

“Don’t cry Xiǎohao. We’ll meet again someday. I promise.”

Minghao stood with everyone else as the High Priest gave his final decree to banish Junhui from the heavens until he repented completely for his sins. 

Junhui gave one last smile to Minghao, before he took one step backward. He was then falling, off the cliff, farther and farther until he disappeared under the clouds. 

The crowd dispersed, muttering, but MInghao could only stare numbly at the spot where Junhui disappeared. 

Minghao tried to move on, doing his divine duties to keep him preoccupied. But several moons have passed and almost everything about the heavens was a painful reminder of Junhui. 

Minghao can’t bear it anymore. 

He flies into a rage one night, pent up grief and frustration exploding and fueling his body. When the High Priest approaches him, he is somber and grimly staring at the blood on Minghao’s celestial sword and the sharp spikes of ice surrounding him. 

Minghao too, is banished, and he falls. The last thing he remembers is the clouds growing farther and farther away. 

Minghao opens his eyes to the sounds of birds chirping. He looks around himself, and sees that he had landed in an open field of grain. 

He stands, seeing a village nearby, and walks toward it, both his pace and heartbeat hastening. 

Upon entry Minghao immediately takes note of the activity, having to step side to avoid a man with his pushcart. He walks on an arched bridge over small canal and stops to observe the village. 

Then when Minghao seems him. 

The man on the left side of the bridge from where Minghao is standing turns around, and he makes eye contact. Both of their eyes widen in recognition. He starts walking toward Minghao, and opens his arms.

Minghao runs into Junhui’s embrace. 

“Minghao,” Junhui murmurs against the younger’s hair. “Minghao. Minghao.”

Minghao begins crying against Junhui’s shoulder, causing the latter to break away to wipe at Minghao’s face. 

“Hao, don’t cry. It doesn’t look good on you.”

“Well it’s all your fault Wen Junhui.” 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Junhui sighs, before resting his forehead against Minghao’s. 

Minghao closes his eyes, and murmurs softly the words of the heart. 

The wind rushes past when Junhui does the same. 

**Author's Note:**

> wOOOW I'm alivvvvve. Kinda. Preparing for my final year in high school be like yeet yeet yote. But obviously, summer homework stops for no one and even though creativity has been flooding my brain I can't act on it because I'm brain dead. So uh. Yeah. 
> 
> Comments, kudos, and criticism is always appreciated! :3 Love y'all who read my crap.


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